


A is for Anniversary

by ahatfullofoctarine (orphan_account)



Series: January Fluffabet Drabble Challenge [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cameos, Drabble, Friendship, M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 04:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17297936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ahatfullofoctarine
Summary: “Happy Ten Years, buddy.” Nyx says.NyxNoct. AU.





	A is for Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> the prompt, taken from this [A-Z list of prompts ](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/post/181217336934/new-year-new-fluffabet)on tumblr:
> 
> "Anniversary"

The blindfolds are a tired tradition in Noct’s opinion, but he understands the rationale. In their line of work, the novelty of being genuinely surprised by anything inevitably erodes, and you’re either left with apathy, or you’re standing near the edge of that spectrum contemplating the leap. Noct’s the latter, so he has the blindfolds on with nary a peep of sarcasm nor change in expression.

A good fifteen minutes later, there’s movement at the top of the stairs. It’s Nyx and whatever it is he wants to show Noct that apparently warrants a helping hand. Noct’s sure the second set of huffing and puffing belongs to Pelna; in an underground armory the scent of clove and juniper berries among steel and gunpowder is hard to miss.  In a way, it’s ironic, considering that Pelna’s specialty is stealth. 

Whatever they’re half-carrying and half-dragging down the basement stairs, Pelna’s obviously not having a good time of it.

“Perfectly good elevator.” Pelna grunts as the two of them get closer to Noct’s work station. “Pinnacle. Of.  _Human_ –” a final heave and thud as whatever they’re carrying is dropped near Noct’s feet– “ingenuity.”

“Hey Pel,” Noct says conversationally.

“Hey Noct,” Pelna greets, in a much more chipper tone, “aww dude, blindfolds  _again_  this year?”

“I like presents.” Noct shrugs.

“…mm. We’ll see.”

There’s a pause that follows. Even with his eyes covered Noct can almost see the silent exchange taking place in front of him. Between veteran hunters, silent judgement isn’t uncommon to the territory, but Pelna indulges in the act rarely enough that Noct knows he should be worried.

“Uh guys? Everything okay… _Nyx_?”

“Just Nyx being Nyx,” Pelna sighs. “Anyways I’m off. Early start tomorrow clearing out a nest in Leide with Crowe. Later!”

 _Sure_. “Yeah. Later.”

Pelna jogs back up the stairs and is gone.

“Okay,” says Nyx with a chuckle, “time for your present.”

Noct reaches up and tugs the blindfolds off.  “You’re the weirdest gift-giver, I hope you know that.”

There’s a large tarp on the floor tied off at one end; tufts of grey fur covering a larger than average-sized paw stained with dirt poking out near the opening—but Noct finds himself fixating on earlier.  For the moment, it’s enough to push the random flashes of memory the sight of that paw triggers to the back of his mind.

“What was that all about?  What’s got Pel worried?”

Nyx shrugs, untying the ropes.

“Just the ush: ‘Drautos is gonna kill us’, ‘you idiot you might have kick-started a blood war’, blah-blah-blah-voila!” He declares with a flourish, revealing the slumbering wolf underneath; muzzle fastened securely over its snout.

Runes of the Ancient etched into the silver manacles binding all four limbs.

“Happy Ten Years, buddy.” Nyx says.

“You got me…a  _werewolf_.” Noct deadpans, turning to him.

“Nah that would be slavery.  What I got— _who_  I got, is someone to kickstart that memory of yours. What I  _got_  you, Noct, is a case.  _The_  case.  _Your_  case.”

Nyx turns his back and starts for the elevator, the ten second journey adequate enough time for Noct’s brain to reboot.

“ _Someone_? Nyx what the hell–”

“Yes,  _someone_ ,” says Nyx, pressing the button to call the lift back down, “ _that_  is the long-presumed-dead-but-apparently-not leader of the extinct Midgar pack. Don’t stand too close, though.” He turns, gesturing to the deep slash against the kevlar protecting his chest with a grin. “Real scrapper, that one. See you in a bit!”

The elevator doors close.

Noct heaves a sigh, and turns back.

In place of the wolf is now a man, stark naked and staring up at him in bewilderment from his basement floor.  

“Where to begin…” Noct mutters, scratching the back of his neck.  


End file.
